


Mine

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Everyman HYBRID, Marble Hornets
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Choking, Face Slapping, Hair-pulling, Knifeplay, Knives, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Spanking, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Threats of Violence, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 16:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4144470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the tender meat, the softest flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

> jay is trans in this but its not very obvious. no front hole penetration. there is no coherent plot to this because its just about the sex. lmao

Jay first felt those wild eyes on him when he was sleeping in the backseat of his car, the night he spent waiting for Alex to show up at the park. The heat made everything sweaty and sticky - his saliva in his mouth, his clothes on his skin, his legs to the seat. He remembers a weird wet dream he had that night, something about a monster with a knife for a tongue, licking him into its cavern of a mouth. There was something about the dream that was too real, like he could feel the slobber all over his body and the teeth closing in around him.

He woke up, shaking and sweating, and he knew immediately that he was being watched. He blamed it on the hooded figure he saw later when he checked the footage, but he remembers more clearly than he's felt in a while. The feeling of eyes on the back of his head. The imprint of a hand on his body. The knife he found next to his face.

Every door in his car was locked that night. He never forgets to lock the doors.

Jay recognizes those eyes now as Evan slams him against the wall of his hotel room. He traps him with his hands and the knife Jay tried to keep hidden. 

"Are you going to hurt me?" Jay asks, and he cringes at the way his voice cracks.

Evan laughs in his face. "Of course I am."

"Evan - " he starts to beg, frayed survival instincts kicking in, but Evan laughs again, harder.

"Not Evan." His eyes burn. Heat and smoke and hellfire. "I'm not fucking Evan."

He shouldn't let Evan kiss him, but he does. He shouldn't let Evan throw him down on the bed, but he does. He muffles himself with the pillow so he can't be heard through the thin walls. Whoever it is, or whatever it is - it wants him, wants to tear him apart, wants to pull out his intestines to kiss.

He wants it, too.

"Please," Jay begs of him. The hand comes down on his ass, and Jay both flinches and moves up against the warm leather. Everything about the man is warm, almost too warm, like sitting in the lap of a volcano. The pain burns, good enough to sting, bad enough to make it hard to sit tomorrow.

Jay likes the bruises, and he thinks that's why the creature lets him go. It's some kind of sick game of cat and mouse they play. The predator and the prey. He realizes he's picked up a bad habit he can't break when he wakes up one day with a blank memory and a threat written in sharpie on his stomach. _I WILL EAT YOU WHOLE,_ it promises him. He takes a shower to wash it off and to shamefully jerk off.

Eventually, Jay gets bold and starts to seek out those eyes. One moment he's in the middle of the woods, and then he's being dragged up the stairs of an unfamiliar house. Evan - or, the thing inside him, the carnal, violent creature inhabiting him - crushes their lips together. He bites down on his lip and Jay tastes blood. HABIT snatches him by the wrists and pins him there beneath him, on the dirty attic floor, growling, "Shouldn't have come here, shouldn't have fucking come here...."

Jay moans into his mouth, and then there's a hand in his pants and he can't help grinding against it. HABIT pulls away from his lips with a snarl and bites his neck, hard, and Jay yelps. The creature laughs and sucks the skin into his mouth, licking and biting over his shoulders. HABIT rubs his thumb in circles over Jay's underwear, already wet with how needy and hungry, hungry, hungry he is.

"Fuck me," Jay begs, and HABIT takes hands out of his pants so he can slap him. The sound echoes through the attic. Jay just moans, and HABIT touches his lips, almost gentle. Then he thrusts his fingers into Jay's mouth and makes him gag.

"Please?" he asks as nicely as he can manage, his voice thick and muffled through the fingers.

HABIT makes a sound, something demonic and hungry, and he flips Jay over so his face is pressed against the cool wood of the floor. He pushes down his pants and gives him one good smack before taking the fingers from Jay's mouth and pushing them inside him.

Something hot and wet presses against Jay's skin, something writhing and searching for a way inside. He flinches, and HABIT grabs a fistful of his hair in a tight grip to keep him still. He lets out a shaky breath, blowing the dust off the floor into the air, and his skin breaks out in goosebumps everywhere the - thing - in HABIT's pants touches, smearing itself on his body. Jay hears a wet sound as HABIT jerks himself off over his back, and then something sticky and somehow warmer covers his skin, even getting in his hair. He shudders. HABIT grunts.

"Fuck me," he breathes out.

HABIT wordlessly gives him what he wants, and it's - thick, twitching inside him, so wet he feels that slime trailing down his thighs. Jay cries out, and he swears the thing widens, stretches, hits so deep inside him he'll still feel it a week later. It's horrible. It's perfect.

It's not the first time Jay gets himself into trouble like that. He thinks he can tempt the beast, learn something from him and come away unscathed.

He comes to with his eyes covered by a blindfold, his hands tied with zip ties behind his back, and his feet bound in strong rope. The truck smells like blood and that particular dried meat smell that hangs on HABIT's breath like a dog panting after a fresh kill. The radio vibrates with some loud crashing music, a _thud thud ba-dump_ that Jay doesn't recognize. Something about sex and violence and more sex. In the lull between songs, Jay can hear the engine sputtering and occasionally a car blaring its horn at HABIT's shitty, irregular driving that makes Jay lurch against his seat belt. At least he put on the seat belt for him.

The car goes over a bump, and HABIT slaps his hand down on Jay's leg. "No need to be so fucking jittery. You're shaking the goddamn cab," he laughs. "You wanted answers, I'll show you answers. Simple as that."

"Then why tie me up?" Jay bites back. "You said you would show -"

"I AM showing you. So shut up and appreciate the fact that you're not dead. Ungrateful brat." HABIT ends the conversation by turning up the music enough to make Jay's head hurt.

Jay waits for the song to end, and then he kicks open the door and rolls off the road and into the bushes. He's been kidnapped and tied up a lot; he's got experience with zip ties. Behind him, the truck comes to a screeching halt and HABIT screeches louder, "For fuck's sake!"

Thorns tear at his face and clothes. He comes to a crashing stop at a tree that knocks the breath out of him. He sits up and tries to pick at the rope, but no luck, HABIT's tied his legs up good. He slides off the blindfold and breathes in the cold night air. He's somewhere in the woods, could be New Jersey or Alabama or God knows what state now, and he can hear HABIT coming after him.

He jumps up and starts to hobble away, before tripping and landing in the dirt. A branch jabs into his side, and he knows it'll be a nasty bruise by tomorrow. If he isn't dead before then.

"You're making this WAY more difficult than it has to be," HABIT jeers from a distance.

Jay stumbles up and crawls away under a bush. He tries to control his breathing, clamps a hand over his mouth, and curls into a ball. He can't see shit in this thick darkness even without the blindfold, but he can hear twigs snapping and heavy boots thudding as HABIT smells him out.

"Just for this, I'm gonna bear the fucking shit out of you," HABIT hisses. He sounds even less like Evan now than when he was in the car. It sends a shiver down Jay's spine. "Stupid piece of shit. I'm gonna bash your head in, you know that, right? And I'm gonna fucking enjoy watching you bleed. I don't like to be inconvenienced when all I'm trying to do is help a poor asshole like you out."

The footsteps sound closer, and Jay holds his breath. HABIT keeps taunting him, "Gonna take this knife and shove it down your fucking throat. I'm gonna cut out your eyes and eat them in front of you. I'll hang you up by your feet on one of these trees and make you bleed out like a gutted pig."

Jay can't help it. He whimpers, and HABIT drags him out of the bushes by his hair. He screams all the way back to the car. The creature throws him down on the gravel road. Jay tries to kick at him, but HABIT grabs his feet and swings him up into the back of his truck. Jay screams until his throat is sore, hoping someone will hear, but HABIT pulls out the blindfold from before and stuffs it into his mouth.

"Baby, no one's around for miles to hear you screaming." HABIT slaps him hard enough that his ears ring, and Jay groans.

"You like that? Fucking filthy," he laughs, and Jay struggles fruitlessly as HABIT wraps his hands around his neck. He flexes his hands around his throat, feeling Jay swallow nervously, and hums. "You're fucked up, aren't you?"

Jay makes a quiet sound behind the gag, and HABIT slaps him again.

"If you scream, I'll burn you alive." He takes out the blindfold and demands, "Be as loud as you can."

Jay feels tears pricking his eyes as they flutter shut, and HABIT relaxes his hands a little to give him a moment to breathe. Jay sucks in air, breathing harshly and twitching. He doesn't get long, however, because HABIT tightens his grip again, squeezes the life out of him, closes his hands around his throat until Jay writhes underneath him. HABIT jams his leg between Jay's, feels how turned on he is, and uses his free hand to pet his hair. Gentle, vaguely affectionate, until he jerks Jay's head back and starts to suck at the exposed skin. He wants to bite that pretty throat open, rip him apart, spill his blood and fuck what's left of him.

All of Jay's thoughts are focused on the friction between his legs and the hand around his neck. HABIT gives him another second of precious oxygen and grunts into his shoulder, "Only gonna let you breathe if you moan for me."

Jay answers with a needy moan, and HABIT laughs at him. It's like a dream, a nightmare of a monster with a knife for a tongue, that he keeps playing out. Maybe it's only been one day, or years, or he's still asleep, writhing, HABIT in his head. 

He never gets any definite answers from HABIT. Jay doesn't even know what his dick looks like for months, only feeling it from behind or with his eyes covered.

"Don't turn around or I'll kill you," HABIT always warns him.

HABIT draws circles on his shoulder blades with a knife. It feels like a cold tongue pressing sharply into his skin, tasting, exploring. Nothing like the warm, too warm, tongue sucking in and biting his earlobe. Jay makes soft noises whenever HABIT digs in the knife, hard enough to draw blood but not to stab. There's another tongue licking at his cheek, and Jay desperately wants to know where the long fourth one curling around his throat is coming from. But he obeys, like a good boy, and he doesn't turn around to look. He keeps his eyes locked on the wall across from them. Cheap beige hotel wallpaper. Lamp that takes a little convincing to turn on. The arm chair HABIT bent him over and spanked him on.

"I can taste your fear," HABIT groans. "It's delicious. You're delicious."

Jay hears something like a suction cup pulling off skin, and saliva drips onto his shoulder and down his chest in a thick pool. He glances down - it's black, and gooey, and not even remotely human - and the tongue tightens around his neck. He realizes the sound must have been HABIT's mouth opening.

The tongue squeezes until Jay can't breathe. HABIT laughs as he struggles for air. He latches that inhuman mouth on Jay's shoulder, and teeth, razor sharp, sharper than the knife, wolfish, bury themselves in his warm flesh. Suddenly Jay feels too aware of how soft he must be compared to the knife at his back and the mouth on his body, how tender and vulnerable he is. How easily he could die here.

HABIT claws at his thighs, and his legs turn to jelly. The tongues hold him up, thicker and stronger the more there are. Hot and wet, they surrounded him, hold him tight. Between his legs, around his wrists, even forcing their way into his mouth.

Jay parts his lips and lets them in.

HABIT grunts, and Jay gags as the tongues shove inside and fill his mouth with fire. He feels the knife tracing slow circles on his ass, and he moans around the mouthful of HABIT as a tongue tries to get inside there, too. It's too big, couldn't possibly fit - but then it does, and Jay can't think of anything but how hot HABIT's body is against his, his ragged breathing, and the way the tongues act like a singular muscle flexing around him, crushing his bones, devouring him in several soft movements.

He could die here, like this. And he would love it.

The hunter chases the hunted, and nothing momentous changes between them when Tim joins Jay.

Jay can hear Tim snoring in the other bed as HABIT sits down on top of him. Swallowing hard, Jay reaches out and touches his dick through his jeans, and HABIT laughs at him, grabs his hand, and grinds against it. Jay can see his dick moving, rippling, and it should not be as hot as it is. Jay turns his head to look at Tim, heart trying to beat out of his chest, terrified he'll wake up any second now, and HABIT pulls out the knife tucked into his waistband and presses it right to his jugular.

“Look at me,” he growls, and Jay obeys.

Tim rolls over in his sleep, and HABIT moves forward on the bed until he's straddling Jay's face. He keeps the knife at his throat, cold and sharp against Jay's skin, and with his other hand, he grabs a fistful of Jay's hair and shoves his face into his crotch. Jay mouths kisses along the hard outline of his dick; HABIT makes a sound of approval and touches his face with the knife.

“You look good like that,” he says, quiet so Tim won't wake up, still thick and dangerous, “but you'd look a lot prettier with my dick in your mouth.”

He jerks Jay's head up by the hair so he can unzip his pants, and Jay moans when he finally sees his cock. HABIT cuts him across the cheek, one quick slash to shut him up, and then thrusts into Jay's mouth. He takes the entire length greedily, making obscene noises as HABIT wipes away a strand of spit from the sides of his mouth.

"Mine," HABIT grunts. "Mine, mine mine, all mine -"

Something black drips from his mouth, strings of it falling onto Jay. He meets those wild eyes for a moment and then shuts them when the blackness hits his face.

"All mine," HABIT groans, and Jay knows he's lost their game. He wouldn't want it any other way.


End file.
